


Golden Bloom

by seraph_writes



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Flowers, Romance, This was made for a gift exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 13:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19946824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraph_writes/pseuds/seraph_writes
Summary: In which Julian dreams of reality, and Clover.





	Golden Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was made for the Fields of Vesuvia gift exchange for arcane-literary-dreams on tumblr. Featuring her apprentice Clover, who is so great and I love her dearly.

There was a brief period of time after leaving the Hanged Man’s realm that Julian would not remember upon waking up. One that had him cross the dreamlike realm of the Arcana (or perhaps it was just his own mind) and back into his living, breathing body. It was like the moment before one wakes up and has to remember everything, their name and where they are, all in the fraction of a second.

Luckily, Julian could remember his name, and before he could realize where he could have been before, he was standing at the bottom of a tunnel. There was a set of crooked stone steps and at the top, a glaring light which he vaguely registered as sun. Julian had to crane his back as he made his way up, as it seems the inconveniences of his height had followed him here. 

On the sloped walls he passed, Julian noticed the vines and leaves growing there. Stubborn stems stuck themselves between the cracks in the stone bricks, wide green leaves darkened from the lack of sunlight. The closer he got to the tunnel’s entrance, the livelier it became. Fluffy yellow blooms -- hydrangeas -- became more dense, poking out from the overgrown walls of bright green ivy and huge leaves that brushed Julian’s arms.

Had it not been for the flowers, Julian would’ve remembered this staircase. One leading to the depths of the old laboratory under the palace, where he spent a lot of his time all those years ago.

He took the last step and broke free into the open air. However, there was not much that Julian could see. There was no sky, and no ground. A winding gravel path stretched out before him, lined with colourful bushes of buttercups and other wildflowers. But other than that…. nothing. It was like an enormous, white room, or a blank sheet of paper.

The doctor’s mind did not seem to fully process the unusualness of the situation. So, he walked. His ears caught the crunching of gravel under his boots, and a distant birdsong, but there were no birds to be seen. Julian could smell salt, like a breeze washing in from the sea. He vaguely registered the flowers as ones he’d seen in his childhood home of Nevivon.

Julian came upon a rickety wooden row boat, floating in invisible water. There was a shore and an island far out in the water, but they were made of simple gray lines -- like the idea of an island. On the end of the row boat was a burnt-out lantern and a few curious objects. Julian stooped down to look and heard sand crunching under his feet.

Hung on the metal loop with the lantern was a delicate bookmark made of pressed flowers. Alongside it were two creased hair ribbons that felt smooth under Julian’s fingers. He held them carefully in this hand, like the most precious treasure. Two ribbons. Two braids.

The beach materializes before Julian even knew it. The sky yellowed like aged parchment, and the sounds fell and echoed through the empty space, coming from nowhere. Comotion, moans of the sick and dying, all drowned out my wash of the tide. The Lazaret loomed moonlit and sinister over the purple lake. Julian was struck by a sudden fear. Where was Clover?

Then it was gone. The boat had disappeared, and Julian’s outstretched hand was empty. To his right, the gravel path stretched out where it hadn’t been before. Julian kept walking.

The path was back, and along it were short marble statues — busts of goat heads and some similar creature. Decidedly a goat’s head, but the rest of it was far too human.

There was a song, far off in the emptiness. Julian felt a comforting presence, and figured someone else must be here with him. From the ground beneath Julian’s feet grew a lush garden, with bright green bushes that got bigger the more he walked. Eventually, the garden’s walls were so tall and so dense, it seemed to block out the rest the void-like world. Julian thought he must have left it altogether.

Then came a smell, drifting on the wind, strong like rosemary. She liked to cook. She liked the challenge it brought, and the many ways to express creativity through food. In a time long forgotten, she had baked him something once.

She was standing in the middle of the garden, at the lip of a huge, marble fountain. A willow tree was hunched over it, bright green leaves catching the light spray of water. She began to turn to him -- golden hair shimmering under the sunlight. Red and white blooms framed her face. Scarred hands shifted up almost to reach out to him. A goddess in bloom.  _ His  _ goddess.

In the last moment, he caught her blue, blue eyes, and there was nothing but affection and  _ love  _ in them. He could smell the sweet scent of her favourite flowers, felt the warmth under his fingertips. As he stumbled into her arms he knew -- with all his heart -- that there was no place he’d rather be in this moment. Julian’s heart felt like it was about to burst, tears pooled and he had so many things he wanted to say.

However, it was time for Julian to wake up.

There was the cold vivisection table under his back, the grey stone ceiling above his head, and Clover, with her arm across his chest, leaning over him.

He sucked in a deep breath and laughed.

“Julian! You’re alive, oh, you’re alive!”


End file.
